Steps
by the.thirteenth.doctors
Summary: 4th Year Dramione: Hermione's sick of Ron after the events of the Yule Ball. Draco realises he's made a mistake with hurting Hermione over the years. A meeting on the steps and a confession later leaves Ron and Harry confused and upset and Ginny amused and delighted... And what's Dumbledore up to now...? Poll for Harry pairing now open!
1. Steps

**Disclaimer: Yes, I am secretly J.K. Rowling, surprise! Not. **

**As you may have guessed, I don't like Ron. Sorry Ron-Lovers. But this is Dramione! What are you even doing here?! **

Hermione angrily dragged the floaty fabric of her sleeve over her face, only succeeding in smearing black mascara across the material and her cheek. "Stupid ginger idiot." She muttered to herself, trying to stop the steady stream of tears but failing miserably. The reason she was crying her eyes out on the steps? Her so-called best friends, currently upstairs - probably laughing about her - well, not really Harry, but _Ron_!

Hermione balled her shaking hands into fists and almost screamed in frustration. What was the git's problem?! Why couldn't he leave her alone when she let her hair down and had fun for once; instead of being the ugly bookworm, she could be the beautiful princess, just this once! But oh no, he _had_ to go and ruin it for her, didn't he?! "I hate him _so_ much!" She yelled aloud, before realising and abruptly stuffing her fist over her mouth.

"I feel like that sometimes." She whipped around, letting her hand drop from her face. A boy was standing in the shadows behind her, face and hair hidden in the dark, all in black. "Why are you spying on me?" Hermione demanded, fury flooding back into her voice. "And who are you?" He chuckled. For some reason, that was familiar. "Someone who hates Weasley, too. And I wasn't spying, just escaping from Pa- I mean, taking a break from dancing." Hermione rubbed the tears and the smeared make-up off her face, ruining her other sleeve. "Do I know you?" The smile she could just about see in the shadows cloaking him dropped. "Perhaps." Hermione snorted. "Huh, a Man of Mystery, then? I don't need anymore boy trouble. Go away." She turned her back on him with a huff, glaring intently at the stone stairs, imagining impaling this faceless, nameless boy and Ron with their own wands.

"No! That's not what I meant, I just... " He paused. She heard him swallow quietly. "I just wanted to talk to you, because I saw how Weasley hurt you, and you might not want to talk to me if you knew who I am." She froze for a second and thought. Then she laughed wryly and said, "Well, as long as you're not Voldemort or Moron Weasley, I don't care." He took a sharp intake of breath. "You really shouldn't say the Dark Lord's name..." She grinned. "A Slytherin, then?" "What makes you think that?" "Only Death Eaters call Voldemort 'The Dark Lord'. I'm guessing you're either Zabini or... Well, you seem nice enough, so I doubt you're Malfoy. Zabini seems like the only alright Slytherin, except for Davis, but I don't think you're a girl." He stayed silent.

She heard him walking towards her, and still she didn't turn to see him, even when he sat down beside her on the cold step. "I'm sorry." He said. She looked up. "Oh..." Draco Malfoy smiled sadly at her. Somehow, this simple change from the usual arrogant smirk made her Gryffindor heart flutter with pity for him - the bully, the spoilt brat, the victim. Then finally... "Don't be sorry." She said. He looked surprised, ashamed - the Ice Prince, ashamed? - and almost embarrassed.

As if he couldn't stop himself, he continued the unexpected apology. "You... Uh, you just looked so... So... beautiful... and I-I... I needed to apologise, because of Weasley, you know?" Hermione had been listening in silence, but now she surprised even herself by closing the gap between them by tentatively placing her lips upon his. Her brain shrieked "What are you doing?! He won't want to kiss a _mudblood_ like _you_!" And as she moved back and prepared herself for a hail of abuse, or all the Slytherins leaping out from behind the pillars screaming, "Fooled you!", all he did was sigh, like he had been waiting for something like that for a while. She opened her eyes slowly, and was met with his grey eyes staring straight into hers. There was something unfathomably intelligent and beautiful about the storm of his irises. She almost expected them to start swirling and suck her into the silver grey depths. She bit her lip anxiously, and stared defiantly at him, waiting for his final reaction. And it was worth waiting for. He smiled. The first real _happy_ smile she had ever seen trace his lips. And it was better than the kiss. Better than how she had felt at the start of the Yule Ball with Viktor... Better than when Viktor had kissed her hand, his mouth a little too wet, too lingering.

She grinned back at him, and as he offered her his hand, she curled her own fingers around his, marvelling at the contrast of his pallid complexion against her own warm skin tone and the warmth of his skin. She would have expected icy hands and freezing clouds as he breathed from the way he carried himself normally. Then she looked back into his eyes, and he bent his face down to kiss her again. She leaned into the touch of her sworn enemy's lips and revelled at their warmth. Then she smiled as new tears sprang from her eyes, trickling down her cheeks. Immediately, he drew back. He looked at her, worried. "Did I hurt you?" She smiled at him, so brightly he wondered how he'd missed this before. Hermione Granger squeezed Draco Malfoy's hand and kissed his cheek. "No... I'm happy, Draco." He smiled so hard he thought his face would burst. "That's good."

And as the snake and the lion kissed, blissfully unaware, two Gryffindor boys, dragged by a flame-haired girl, stopped still in the corridor. Both paled, the girl grinned and then the dark haired boy dragged a fuming red headed boy back up the corridor to the Common Room. When the boys had gone, Ginny Weasley was left watching, smiling and shaking her head. "Bloody hell, Hermione..." She whispered.

**A.N. Should I continue this?**


	2. Almost A Fairytale

(A.N. So people actually like it! Yay! Well, here's chapter two, as requested. If you have any ideas for the next chapter, please let me know in the reviews!)

Almost like a fairytale, when the clock struck midnight, the princess ran away. Only, for Hermione, this wasn't a fairytale. There was an awful lot more swearing, as the princess remembered that the prince she'd been kissing for most of the night was supposed to be her rival, the prince wondered how bad the beating would be if his father heard about it and they both realised that there was a grouchy old caretaker heading their way, who'd likely have their heads if he caught them.

So what do two resourceful intelligent Hogwarts students who really don't mind being in close proximity of each other for a while do in this situation? Obviously. Find a broom cupboard! So they did. And by the time they deemed it "safe" to leave, it was one in the morning and somehow Draco had become covered in Hermione's remaining lip gloss...

As they sneaked back to their common rooms, Hermione wondered aloud about the rest of the morning... "What are we going to do about this... us...?" Draco snorted. "We're going to arrange the first non-pureblood exclusive Malfoy wedding, obviously." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Shut up. Let's just carry on as normal." "We don't normally snog, Granger!" "Urgh, stop it, Malfoy, I hate that word. We'll just meet up in Hogsmeade secretly, or something." Draco smirked. "Whatever you say, dear." She glared at him. "It will be very easy pretending to hate you." He mock-winced at her icy tone. "Ouch, Granger, that one gave me frostbite!" She mumbled something about aggravating ferrets, and he muttered something about the first sign of madness.

Reaching the portrait hole, Hermione let go of his hand and began to wake up the Fat Lady. "Are you coming in or not?" The picture grumbled. "Oi, princess, don't I get a goodnight kiss?" She rolled her eyes, but still smiled fondly as she stood on tiptoe to kiss him. "Only a peck?" He complained. "Shut up or you won't get any tomorrow. Now go away, before Filch catches you!" Draco pouted superbly, and acted wounded.

"Goodnight, my fair lady! Your poisonous tongue strikes pain into my heart!" Hermione laughed as he staggered backwards, clutching his chest. "Oh, be gone with you, peasant!" She laughed, playing along. "I'll see you in Potions!" He blew her a kiss, and stalked back into the shadows.

"Fortuna Major!" She whispered to the Fat Lady, who dutifully swung open with a yawn. She heard footsteps behind her and quickly scrambled in, giggling. Who'd have thought it? Hermione Granger, sneaking in at ten past one in the morning, after spending most of the night attached to Draco Malfoy's lips!

She grinned, and started to inch quietly towards the stairs of the girls' dorms. "Hermione, Hermione, Hermione." She froze as she heard the unmistakable teasing voice of Ginny Weasley. She turned to see the youngest Weasley smirking at her from the comfort of an overstuffed red armchair.

Hermione tried not to look guilty. "Yes, Ginny?" The redhead rose, dressed in equally scarlet pyjamas, that had "Got you..." written on the front in a black curly script. She certainly had, Hermione mused.

"Care to explain what you were up to on the stairs with a certain blond Malferret?" Hermione tried to keep her face neutral. "What are you talking about? I was talking with Viktor in the library!" Hopefully, that would keep Ginny off her back... Ginny's raised eyebrow almost reached her hairline. "Then why was he looking for you all night?" Damn.


	3. I've Got You

(A.N. Chapter 3, just because I'm in a writing mood. Sorry if the characters are a bit OOC, but sometimes they have to be for it to work. Don't like, don't read! Thanks to SassyDoe, MirrorOfErisedSpellsDesire, The Girl You Saw Nowhere, 221b has a tardis, ChpNinjaChick, heartless genius, guest and Kerenza for reviewing! Sorry it's short... I'll write chapter 4 ASAP...)

Ginny walked towards her, flame-red hair shimmering in the dim light of the single torch in the wall bracket.

Damn, damn, damn...

Ginny smirked. "It's actually pretty awesome!" Hermione's eyebrows jumped a few inches. "What?" "Shut up, and stop denying it. I saw you. So did Ron and Harry, but I told them that they imagined it!" Hermione snorted. "There's no way they believed that." Ginny laughed. "You'd be surprised. I think they just wanted it to be their imaginations..."

Well, yeah, Hermione thought, if she saw Harry kissing Voldemort (Oh god) she'd definitely try to erase it from her memory...

"Soooo?" Ginny pestered. "Are you going to tell me all about it?" Actually, no. She thought. I was going to ignore you and read until you forgot about it... "Ginny... You can't tell anyone. It just happened. It was all your stupid brother's fault. I was crying, Draco was escaping from Pansy, and I suppose he just changed his mind! God, I don't know. Can we talk about it in the morning?"

Ginny beamed. "This is so exciting!" "Hooray." Hermione said weakly. "Now, please, please, please can I get some sleep?!"


	4. Harassment, by Luna and Pansy

(A.N. Hiiiiiiii, yay! It's chapter 4! Next chapter is potions class! Any ideas? Thank you my lovely reviewers! Maia xx)

At six thirty in the morning, Hermione Granger woke up, same as always. Only, today, she made an effort to tame her long bushy hair, eventually succeeding in teasing it up into a spectacularly messy bun. As she looked in the mirror to tidy it up a little, she anxiously bit her lip. "It's nice..." The mirror said approvingly. "For once." She glared at it, collected her schoolbag, and walked down the stairs to the common room. One of the benefits of getting up early was being able to avoid a certain redheaded brother and sister, who would certainly start pestering her later. Luckily, the cosy scarlet and gold room was empty, except for a few third years and her other best friend.

"Morning, Harry!" She chirped. He smiled back at her, looking slightly confused. "Er, Ginny said..." Hermione almost rolled her eyes in exasperation. The key word in this sentence is 'almost'. "What do you mean?" She asked, making her face as confused and concerned as possible. "Uh, where were you last night, er, after Ron..." Hermione's eyes flashed in rage. "Don't talk to me about that idiot. I was in the library, why?" She lied. She hating deceiving her best friend, but she wasn't ready to tell him about the curious situation she'd managed to get herself in. "So...? Are you coming to breakfast...?" Harry looked guiltily at his suddenly terribly fascinating shoes. "Um, no I'm waiting for, uh, Ron..." "Oh." Hermione replied frostily. "Well, have fun with your boyfriend, then. Goodbye, Harry Potter." And she stalked out of the common room, cloak swirling behind her.

"Well, that was dramatic, Granger." She turned to glare at the blond, flanked on either side by his moronic cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. "Shut up, Ferret." She snarled, a smile in her eyes. He scowled at her. "Watch it, Granger... Twas a pleasure as always," he said, mock bowing, a knowing smile on his face. "Catch you later, mudblood!" And he was off down the corridor, bodyguards lumbering after him. She grinned after him, before rolling her eyes and forcing a frown as Luna drifted down the corridor towards her, smiling serenely as always. "Hello, Hermione," she said dreamily. "Oh, hi, Luna!" Hermione said, smiling. "Good luck with Draco... You do know how he feels now?" Hermione felt her mouth falling open before she could stop herself. "What do you mean? Who's spreading that rumour?" Her face burned crimson.

Luna smiled knowingly. "It's alright, I knew ages ago... I won't tell Ronald, he'll be jealous. Goodbye, Hermione..." And as Hermione was left bemused and in shock, the blonde Ravenclaw glided down the hall, a genteel smile firmly fixed upon her lips. How did Luna find out?! And Ron? Jealous? Not likely... Hermione shook her head as if to shake the confusing extra thoughts crowding her brain. She headed down to the Great Hall, slightly irritated and exhausted, but otherwise fine. She perched on a wooden bench at the Gryffindor table, selected an apple from the bowl, even though her stomach grumbled at her for more. The house elves probably hadn't had to prepare the fruit, she reasoned. As she ate, she pulled out her Potions essay and reread it, making sure there were definitely no mistakes. After all, she might have missed something, the other three times she'd read through it...

Meanwhile, on the Slytherin table, Draco was stuck in a deeply awkward conversation with Pansy. "But are you betrothed, Drakey? 'Cause if you aren't, I could be your betrothed, you know, because we like each other, right? And we're both purebloods, and rich..." The Malfoy heir buried his face in his hands. "Pansy... Can we talk about this another time?" He groaned.

She looked like he'd just drowned her kittens (all 37 of them, he'd had to suffer through that lecture as well...). "It's not that I don't like you, Pansy, it's just... I'm, uh, not looking for a relationship right now." Her pug face became even more distressed. "Draaaaaco!" She wailed. "You have a girlfriend?" Draco's pale face went slightly pink. "Shut up! No, I don't! You're overreacting!" But that had the opposite of the intended effect. "He's a boyyyyy? You're gay?!" "NO!" He all but shrieked in horror. They were attracting quite a lot of attention now. Even a few sniggers from the other tables... Draco thought about raging "HOW DARE YOU LAUGH AT THE GREAT DRACO MALFOY?!", but quickly dismissed that idea when he saw Hermione smirking a smirk to rival even his own... Pansy tugged on his sleeve as he was smirking back. "Why are you looking at the mudblood?!" She hissed. Draco pried her fingers from his sleeve in disgust. "I was just telling her how ugly she is." Pansy giggled, soundly slightly like a mad dog barking. "You're so clever, Draco..." She simpered, batting her eyelashes so hard they welled up with tears. He rolled his eyes and continued watching Granger out of the corner of his eye. She had been joined by Weaselette, who appeared to be bombarding her with questions. Potter and Weasel soon followed, sullenly avoiding her as obviously as she avoided them. When she finished her second apple, she said a polite goodbye to the She-Weasel, who instantly packed up her things and scampered after her, like an overeager dog.

Speaking of overeager dogs... Pansy was still rambling about her latest kitten, "Wuffleymuffins" or some such drivel. Draco nodded in Zabini's direction, slung his bag over his shoulder and stalked off, smirking at the sound of an irate Pansy screeching after him. First lesson of the day? Potions with Granger. He grinned slightly. Things were looking up...


	5. Teachers iz Talkin'

(A.N. Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii, sorry I haven't updated in so long. I had no idea what to do for a Potions class scene, so I'll do that some other time. Instead, from no-one in particular's opinion, I bring you chapter 5! Yay! Beware! This chapter is slightly cracky and people are ooc...)

The teachers were in the staff room after a long exhausting day. As usual, Snape was complaining, McGonagall was bitching about him to Flitwick, and Dumbledore was laughing at it all. Albus Dumbledore watched on, bright blue eyes twinkling merrily. "You'll never guess what happened in Potions today!" (A.N. Yeah, yeah, I'll write it at some point) Snape sneered. The babble of various chatter subsided. Everyone glanced over at Snape, who was stroking his imaginary beard smugly (the "beard" was called Enid and Snape was very proud of her).

McGonagall rolled her eyes. "Spit it out, if you must, Severus." She commented dryly. He glared. "I was just getting to that." He cleared his throat dramatically. "During my Slytherin/Gryffindor potions class today, Mr. Malfoy and that Granger girl weren't fighting. I put them into pairs, you know, and they usually kick up a ruckus! However, today..."

McGonagall yawned. "Booooooring. Miss Granger obviously threatened to hex that brat if he didn't shut up." Trelawney gasped. "Minerva!" "What?! He is a brat." Dumbledore coughed gently. "Thank you, ladies, but I think what Severus was implying was that he thought there might be a little something between the two...?" Snape and McGonagall choked on their Butterbeers, spraying Flitwick, Trelawney and Professor Sprout. Dumbledore calmly offered the three soaked teachers his handkerchief. Sprout took it, before remembering she could use magic and handing it back.

"NO!" The heads of Slytherin and Gryffindor shrieked together. "That is not it." McGonagall patted her hair down and attempted to de-fluster (A.N. Yes, I know that's not a word) herself. "Well... I wouldn't be too sure..." Snape gagged. McGonagall retched. "Never. Never, ever going to happen." Suddenly, Moody croaked up from the back of the room. "It already has happened..." The teachers fell silent and the bickering two Heads of Houses gaped. Mad Eye Moody tapped his electric blue eye, and it whizzed around his head. "Holding hands under the desk in Defence Against The Dark Arts..."

There was an astonished collective gasp. Immediately, McGonagall and Snape clambered out of their seats, hands over their mouths, faces green tinged with disgust. They ran out of the room, and Karkaroff winced at the sound of vomiting. Dumbledore clapped excitedly. "How adorable..." "Just like Pride and Prejudice..." sighed Madame Maxime, fluttering her eyelashes at Hagrid, who looked dumbfounded.

"I predict a beautiful relationship!" Piped up Trelawney. "Well, that's a first..." Muttered Flitwick. "Yes!" She exclaimed. "A gorgeous and tragic love, desperately hidden and when discovered..." Trelawney took a huge breath. "Death!" She cried, clawing at her cheeks in melodramatic anguish. "And she ruined it..." Flitwick grumbled, grimacing to himself. Apparently, Trelawney had heard this remark, because she prodded him quite hard in the ribs with her wand.

"Alright, alright!" Dumbledore called. "We need a strategy. All teachers who agree say 'Aye'!" "Aye!" Chorused the majority of the teachers. A couple just sighed and rolled their eyes. "Brilliant!" Exclaimed Dumbledore. "Right then, this is the plan..."


	6. Liars, Revenge and Heartbreak

(A.N. Hello, again! Thanks to my lovely reviewers and followers! This chapter was inspired by the genius of Martha. Ready for chapter 6? Allons-y!)

"Hermione?" Hermione stopped walking and turned to see Harry and Ron watching her from behind a statue she'd walked past. She smiled breezily at them. "Speaking to me now, then?" Ron huffed and turned a peculiar shade of beetroot that clashed horribly with his hair. Harry just smiled apologetically. "Um. Well, Ron and I -" Ron folded his arms. His face plainly told Hermione that he did not agree. "We're very sorry. Uh, Ron would like to apologise." At this Ron gave a loud snort of indignation. "I would not, Harry! Not only was she fraternising with the Durmstrang idiot, she was also making out with MALFOY. We saw you, 'Mione, so don't tell us it was our bloody imaginations." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, in the past you have displayed rather an active imagination, Ronald." She remarked coolly. Ron clenched his fists and his face went from beetroot to a rather lovely shade of lavender. "But I won't lie to you." The boys looked startled. Hermione's mind was racing. How could she make this lie convincing? She sniffed. "After you stormed out, Fred and George spiked the Butterbeer with Firewhisky... I can't remember much, but I did kiss him. He was probably more splintered than me!" Harry looked horrified, while Ron looked suitably impressed. "Excellent! I must ask Fred and George how they did it..." Suddenly, Hermione felt sick to her stomach. Behind the boys, someone surged past in a swirl of silver-blond hair and black robes. Trying desperately to keep her face neutral, she said, "Um, I have to, uh, bathroom..." The boys looked confused, but shrugged and let her past. Hermione swore she heard Ron mutter, "Stupid girls..." But she had no time for that. As she dashed around the corridor, her eyes flew desperately through the throng of students. It was as if they were trying to get in her way! There were crowds and crowds of pupils, filling the hallway and chattering loudly, filling her head with noise. She crashed straight into Neville and Luna, spilling her books everywhere. "Sorry! Sorry!" She rushed. "That's alright, Hermione." Luna said dreamily. Hermione stuffed as much into her bag as she could, carrying the rest. "Thank you! Bye!" She blurted out, grabbing her bag and waving frantically at them, while rushing as quickly as possible through the sea of students. She saw a flash of blond hair and craned her neck to see where he'd gone. Disappointingly, it was only Hannah Abbott. She readjusted her grip on the books in her arms that were starting to slip out of her grasp. "Come on, come on!" She chanted under her breath. Where was he? She almost tripped over as she got her answer. There he was. In the middle of the hall. He had his back to her and she stumbled through the crowd yelling after him. Apparently he couldn't hear her. As she neared the achingly familiar sight of his white-blond hair, she stopped dead in her tracks. Hermione swore she felt her blood run in her veins like ice for that split-second. His arms were wound tightly around Pansy Pugface Parkinson, Queen of Stupid. She looked like she was trying to ram her tongue down his throat as far as possible. Malfoy's face was slightly contorted as he tried to breathe through the "kiss". Hermione staggered. She felt like all the wind had been knocked out of her. She could taste sick - like acid, burning in her throat. Backing away, she raced back through the mob, shoving her way past as she made for the girl's bathroom. She needed to be alone. She needed to breathe. She needed - oh, God, she was going to throw up... Hermione dashed into the nearest girl's toilets and into a grimy cubicle. Before she could stop herself, she was vomiting all over the scandalised face of none other than Moaning Myrtle. Myrtle promptly screamed and shot down the toilet, howling in anguish, bits of Hermione's breakfast coating the unfortunate ghost. Hermione wiped her mouth and trudged to the sink. She groaned as she saw the splattered ends of her hair. "Scourgify..." She muttered, pointing her wand at the matted curls. She conjured up a glass, performed an aguamenti charm, and rinsed out her mouth. Hermione took one look at her tear streaked, red eyed reflection and immediately decided she wasn't going back to class. But that's just what he would want... A little voice in her head told her... She shook it off. She could not work in this state. Shakily, she picked her bag up from the cracked tiles of the squalid bathroom. She would go and see Madame Pomfrey for a Pepper Up potion. Then she would go to her last class, which, luckily, was a Gryffindor/Ravenclaw lesson. Mind made up, she wiped the tears off her face with her robes. She would deal with it. She didn't need a boy like him, anyway. What had Ginny said about Ron having a crush on her? Hermione smiled slowly. She would get that ferret back. And then he'd be sorry...

(A.N. Sorry about that... Blame Martha! Muahahahaha! Please review...)


	7. Decisions

(A.N. Oh my Loki, we're already on chapter 7! Ooh, I'm excited. Ready? Oh yeah, and I don't own Harry Potter. Or Draco Malfoy, disappointingly :'( Anyway! On with the story! :{D [Yes, the smiley has a moustache...])

*Contains Harry angsting*

Hermione wasn't in Potions.

That alone was terrifying. What was worse was that her usual partner, Malfoy, was working alone, looking incredibly guilty; fidgeting about and knocking his quill onto the floor. He always was a twitchy little ferret; I'd never realised how accurate that description really was. What's he done to Hermione...? I wrinkle my brow. Pushing my glasses up my nose, I turn back to my (definitely not by choice) partner Pugface Parkinson. She simpers at me sickeningly. I give her a wary smile and she just about faints. I swear; that girl has a crush on any boy that looks once at her! Pansy flicks her bangs out of her eyes and tips the unicorn hairs into our cauldron. Thankfully, the potion doesn't explode in our faces. Pansy isn't terrible at Potions, I suppose, she's better than Ron, and me for that matter, but that isn't that hard to achieve. I peer into the cauldron. The liquid bubbles a curious shimmering rust colour. I gaze at the textbook. Pansy's almost finished. "Do you, um, want me to help?" She smiles eagerly at me. "No, no, Ha- uh, Potter! You just relax. I'm almost done!" She gushes. I return the smile. After all, she has done the entire potion by herself, as my mind has been focused on other... More important... issues. I sigh inwardly. Hermione... Why couldn't she notice me? It had always been Ron, Ron, Ron. And then Krum. How was I supposed to compete with a bloody international superstar?! I guess in a way, I'm an international superstar. But who wants to date a guy who's famous for accidentally killing the Dark Lord as a baby?! Not Hermione, obviously. Something must have shown on my face, because Pansy gently touched my arm. "Harry- uh, I mean, Potter... The potion's done." She beams at me, craving praise. "Oh, er, thanks Pansy. You can call me Harry, you know..." I stare into the dark substance. It swirls like blood in the bottom of the cauldron. I bite back bile at the thought. I offered her a weak smile. "Uh, I'm sorry, what does it do again?" Pansy giggled. It wasn't as annoying as I had previously remembered. "It's an Anti-Stress Draught, Harry. Remember?" I didn't. Snape reentered the room, looking more than ever like an overgrown bat. I scowled down into the dark red liquid as Pansy produced two glass vials. She carefully ladled the draught into the clear tubes, not spilling a drop, just like Hermione would have. She passed one to me. "Cheers!" She laughed brightly, tossing her dark hair out of her face. I tipped the glass towards her. "Cheers, Parkinson." Her face fell. "Please don't call me that." "Er, alright, Pansy?" The smile returned to her face. I tipped the glass towards her awkwardly. She returned the gesture, beaming delightedly. The liquid tasted salty and metallic on my tongue, just like blood. I grimaced. As soon as it slid down my throat, I felt the tension slipping from my limbs. Next to me, Pansy sighed blissfully, in a similar state. "You're brilliant, Pansy..." I slurred drowsily. She smiled and nodded slowly, clinking her glass against mine. As I was about to take another swallow, I found my glass plucked from my fingers. I turned slowly to see Snape. Glaring, he drawled, "The best potion... Potter and Parkinson. Everyone else will remain to clear up. Dismissed." He flapped his hands at us to get out. I picked up my things and slowly walked out. My head felt weird. In a good way, but still weird. Pansy scampered after me. "Wait, Harry!" I stopped. "Yes, Pansy?" "Thanks for being my partner!" I grinned at her and she blushed. "S'fine." I walked on as she scurried away. Now, more importantly, where was Hermione?

-*Hermione*

I walked into Charms fifteen minutes late. Professor Flitwick fell off his stack of spellbooks in shock. I was never late. Looking around "casually", I ignored my frantically waving best friends and took the empty place next to Luna, spreading my books out onto the table. "Sorry I'm late." I said in a small voice, unnaturally loud in the echo of the otherwise silent room. Flitwick managed to re-climb his textbook tower. "Oh, that's quite alright, Miss Granger. Don't do it again." Flitwick looked puzzled that he was even having to tell me this. I smiled awkwardly, bending my head over my work so that my hair hid my face. Luna turned to face me, long dirty blonde hair swishing around her shoulders. "Hermione!" She whispered, voice dreamy as always. I looked at her. "Ronald is staring at you again... What are you going to do about Draco?" A chill ran through my veins. I had avoided thinking about Malfoy as best as I could. I shrugged. "He obviously didn't really like me, anyway. He was just using me. I mean, did you see him with Pansy?" I spat out the girl's name with contempt. Luna gave me a sympathetic smile. "You know, people do things for different reasons than you first think... Take Ronald for example. He is quite besotted with you. Hated seeing you with Krum..." My heart jumped painfully in my chest. Damn. I'd forgotten about Viktor... He must think I'm so rude... Immediately the perfect strategy leaped into view. How to irritate both Dra- uh, Malfoy AND Ron? I'd just have to brush up on flirting. Parvati and Lavender will be sure to know how... I'll ask Krum to help with my revenge plan... "What are you thinking about, Hermione? You have a very Slytherin look on your face..." Luna sounded more alarmed than serene for once... I attempted an evil laugh which ended as a coughing fit. Luna patted me on the back carefully, as if she were afraid to set me off again. "Oh, no, no, nothing..." I rasped, throat dry as sandpaper. "Nothing at all..."

(Poor Harry... Poor Pansy... Poor Draco... Poor R- NO! Not poor Ron. Everything's his fault! *sobs dramatically*)

Review my little chickens! O_o

Sorry, I'm in a weird mood...


	8. Pure Blood, Dark Thoughts

{I'M BACK. Please don't kill me! I've been busy writing an advent calendar... There are a few Dramione chapters in there, but I was stressed when I wrote them so they aren't brilliant... Thanks to my wonderful reviewers and followers - you all make me so happy!

Current status: 43 followers, 19 favourites, 21 reviews and 4,100 views! I love you guys!

Anyway, on with chapter 8!}

Ron's POV:

She shouldn't have lied.

She should have told us! We're supposed to be her best friends! Still, if she had been drunk on Firewhisky (and I don't put it past Fred and George), then I suppose she wouldn't have wanted people to know...

Prim, proper Hermione, caught boozing with the commoners! Oh la di da! I scowl, tugging the maroon jumper I so hated further down my arms.

My mind unwillingly flickers back to that night...

I'd never really paid much attention to her before...

She was just the geeky one.

Still one of my best friends, but just too damn clever for her own good...

She was fun, when she wasn't lecturing you about her precious damn rules.

A lifesaver, if you hadn't done your homework due in the next day...

But never pretty...

No, beautiful was the right word...

She'd tamed her bird's nest hair, donned heels and worn a dress... What a dress! I'd never even guessed she had a figure beneath the heavy layers of robes smothering her at all times...

She'd looked great.

Better than great, she was gorgeous, the blue of the fabric showing off her lovely curves...

I grimaced, snapping back to reality.

What I needed was a revenge plan, to get my own back on her...

She'd ruined my life in three moves.

1: Take Krum to the ball.

Couldn't she tell he was Durmstrang trash?!

2: Wear a dress and be sexy.

It's just not fair.

3: Snog that bloody Ferret!

Why couldn't it have been me?!

Shut up! Shut up! Bad thoughts!

I am knocked from my thoughts again when Harry sits down opposite me.

"Seen 'Mione?" He smiles.

My stomach turns.

"No..." Stop it, Ron! Get a grip! It's good Harry still wants to be friends after your last outburst!

I plaster a fake grin onto my face. "Want to play Exploding Snap?" He grins eagerly in response.

Perhaps this will take my mind off Hermione bloody Granger and her bloody cute smile...

*v*v*v*v*v*v*

Draco's POV:

I feel sick.

Why did I let Pansy kiss me?

Why couldn't I just have stayed indifferent? Of course Granger didn't like me! Why would she? Why would anyone? I was nothing but an egocentric bastard, ruled not by his head nor heart, but his father's every order, a puppy desperate to please his uncaring master.

I had another letter from Father.

Just two sentences.

'The Dark Lord is rising. Fear him.' It wasn't even signed.

Just two sentences can transform me from an unfeeling machine to a quaking mess.

I know it's not just the letter.

It's her.

Of course it is.

It always was.

Stupid mudblood, why must she always get in the way?!

She's putting her life in danger for Potter, just by being friends with the idiot!

If the Dark Lord truly is coming back, then I fear for her, not myself... As a pureblood, I should be unharmed...

Unless He recruits me, of course... Don't think about it, don't think about it...

Oh, Granger...

Why must you do this to me?

My heart still flutters painfully when I remember her lips on mine. Damn emotions! I am a MALFOY! I should not let my feelings control me!

My breathing is ragged as I tear up Father's letter. Two pieces, then four, then eight, until all I can see are tiny shreds; scattered like my frantic thoughts.

I can't do this! I can't be who they want me to be!

I take a long shuddering breath in. Damn Granger. Damn Pansy. Damn arrogant ignorant family laws... I tear at my hair, the slicked silver-blond strands I inherited from countless Malfoys before me. What was different about me? Nothing. What was special about me? Nothing! I was exactly the same as all of them. The latest recruit in an army of pure, perfect witches and wizards, ready to cleanse the world of its 'filth'.

I glare at my reflection. He glares back, pale skin blotched with fury, almost white hair spilling around his shoulders. I hadn't realised how long it had got... It made me look like Him. Father. I hated that. But hate made me strong. If I could hate myself, that would stop me feeling guilty. I touch the grey eyes, flooded with pain. I watch him touch his face as I feel my cheek under my fingers. I'm a person without colour. Barely alive. I let the hatred fill me. If I can feel nothing but hatred, will it stop hurting? Oh, Granger... Hermione... Can't you see how you hurt me?

{Wow, that was angst overflowing... Sorry. Review?}


	9. Ink and Paper

{In which Hermione says "damn" about a thousand times... Trying not to fall into the dark abyss of writer's block, so I'm not quite sure how this chapter will turn out... P.S. I'm very sorry if this strays from the plot of GOF, I haven't read the book in a while...}

Hermione needed a plan.

She only had a vague strategy so far. There was no way she could make it work on her own... She wasn't nearly as pretty as Parvati or Ginny, so how she had gained the attentions of Malfoy to begin with confused her already... She began a list of parts of her life that were definite. Lists were good, she could understand lists, maybe she'd understand life a little better through a list? Certain. She scribbled onto the page, tired eyes letting her down. Her normally immaculate handwriting looked like, well, Ron's...

The thought made her ball up her fists and with it, her list, printing smudgy ink lettering on to her skin. She cursed softly under her breath, glaring at the blue-black mottled sheen her wrist was beginning to take. It was a pretty colour, though, and she was exhausted, so in her tired mind, she cast it off as nothing worth noting, starting afresh on a new piece of parchment.

CERTAIN.

1. I, Hermione Granger,

She blinked at the words sleepily. Now what was she supposed to write? She groaned, rubbing a hand over her drooping eyelids. Could it wait until the morning...? No!

She was never one to leave work late. Jolting upright, she pulled the duvet up over her shoulders and wriggled her toes, shoving all thoughts of sleep from her mind.

CERTAIN:

1. I, Hermione Granger, may have feelings for...

She paused, uncertain.

Then she recalled that sweet smile, and the feel of his hands in her hair. Her face was growing warmer steadily now, she could feel a blush spreading to the roots of her hair... Merlin...

Did he really have this effect on her?

She took a few shallow gulps of air, as if that would calm her speeding imagination, tearing after her thumping heart, as if they were racing to see who could do the worst damage to her asexual bossyboots reputation. Damn. Damn, damn, damn. This wasn't good.

The next thing she knew, Hermione was absolutely freezing cold. She blinked groggily and sat up. She was on the floor, pillow and covers splayed out around her on the floor. Damn... She must have fallen asleep... She glanced at the clock, not yet quite awake, and panicked. It was 8:30 already! She scrambled to her feet, dashing to the bathroom to splash water on her face and drag a brush carelessly through her tangled curls. No time for a shower; luckily she had dozed off in her school uniform... She grabbed her bag, shoving yesterday's work into it and dashing down the stairs and out of the common room...

It was when she found herself in an silent corridor, completely empty of students... She frowned, checking and then double checking her watch.

Damn, damn, damn!

It was 6:30. Six bloody thirty. Not eight thirty. Merlin, she was an idiot... How did she manage that? She groaned, running her fingers (with some difficulty) through her hair. Oh, well... At least she'd have some peace at the Gryffindor table today... She could finish her list, at least...

She sighed, making her way towards the Great Hall. She began to get a sense of de ja vu as she spotted Luna approaching her, and fixed on her best patient smile (which she was forced to use a lot, due to a certain red head she still hadn't forgiven).

Upon seeing Hermione, instead of her usual gibberish about Nargles, Luna simply gave her a scarily suggestive wink, tapping her nose. This was so out of character that Hermione froze for a second, caught between shock and fear. She managed to refresh her weak smile though, walking quickly past the dreamy Ravenclaw.

As she was eating her usual breakfast apple (SPEW supported apples), she remembered something that made her shriek her fifth "Damn!", of the day.

Oh, bloody Merlin's stinking baggy Y-fronts...

She had left her list upstairs...


	10. Peeves' Ploy

{This chapter is dedicated to Sarah (mc_shizzle_leo on Instagram!) Martha and I have converted her to the wonders of Dramione! There is a poll on our profile; who do you guys think Harry should end up with? Martha thinks Ron or Pansy... What do you think? Vote to get your opinion into the story! Also, Steps now has 27 reviews! Can we get it to 30, pretty please? Love you guys, on with the story! Maia xx}

Harry was exhausted.

He was supposed to be focusing on the clue to the first task, not obsessing over his best friend! Yet his mind still disobeyed, straying to crazy thoughts of Hermione, Hermione, Hermione...

How her hair smelt, all dark and wonderful, like woodsmoke...

How her eyes would twinkle when she'd got full marks, yet again...

Even the crinkle between her brows as she told him and Ron off for being irresponsible was suddenly oddly... Hot...

Damn it! He strode into the prefects' bathroom, towel in hand, glaring at the limpid water sparkling annoyingly. Cedric had told him to try the bath... Why? How?!

He got out of his robes and left them on the marble bench, cut smoothly into the wall like a slide for gnomes. Harry turned around, shrieking in not-so-manly terror as he saw Moaning Myrtle perving on him from through the changing cubicle door. She giggled coyly, beckoning with her little finger. "Aren't you comiiing~?" The ghost sang, leering at him quite disturbingly. "The water's nice and waaaarm..."

Horrified (and hoping desperately that Myrtle wasn't attempting to seduce him), Harry gulped, walking through to the pool, careful to let his hands cover everything of importance. Behind him, the teenage spirit pouted, zigzagging through the air, complaining at the lack of a "view".

That alone was enough to make him consider whether this clue was really important enough to risk his sanity (and perhaps virginity, depending on how much of a creeper Myrtle was, the darker part of his mind reminded him). He shuddered at the thought. Stay calm, stay calm... Think of 'Mione...

Harry took a deep breath and took the plunge...

THEN HE AND RON GOT IT AAAWWN IN THE PREFECTS BATHROOM *insert John laugh*

...

{Right. Sorry. That was Martha. I apologise for her atrocious behaviour... Carry on?}

Hermione dashed up the stairs, cursing in as many tongues as she knew. Something was definitely wrong if Hermione Granger was swearing in any language, but in Troll? That was usually the signal to run...

A bright white flash blinded her momentarily and she staggered, crashing headlong into something - someone. The light burst into her tired vision again and she winced, clutching onto the other person dizzily. They, whoever they were, seemed to be as unused to the light as her, perhaps worse, clinging to her tightly.

Suddenly, a laugh cut into the air, followed by a long wolfwhistle.

Peeves. Hermione angrily tried to blink the white out of her eyes, glaring around her.

"Aww, sweet... Mangy Grangy has a lickle Ferret boyfriend..." The poltergeist howled with laughter, swooping away. "PEEVES!" Roared the person who's arms were currently tight around her middle. Damn! Hermione's mind cleared; eyes shooting wide open with horror.

Malfoy. That's who she was holding. Another laugh; female this time, high and giggly, oddly menacing. Hermione felt him twist violently in her arms to face the intruder.

When the flash came this time, she was prepared. She ignored it with no trouble, instead focusing her attention on the person beside the camera. "Beautiful! Such forbidden, dangerous love... Won't your father be cross, dear? Tomorrow's Daily Prophet will be our most read edition, I'll make sure of it! Ciao, sweeties!" Shaking with rage, Draco gripped Hermione's waist so hard she was sure she'd have bruises by lunch as they both watched the platinum blonde curls of Rita Skeeter bobbing away down the corridor.

{Review? Those that don't will be creeped on by Myrtle... Muahahahaha...}


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